Forgotten Promise
by Silver Saline
Summary: Years passed since Chihiro saved her parents, her journey to the spirit world but a faded memory. Belief turned into hope, then denial, and finally memories. The promise Haku made was forgotten. But Chihiro wasn't the one who forgot. A cruel twist of fate would bring them together again, but when Haku doesn't remember her, its up to Chihiro to solve the mystery.
1. Chapter 1: Little Pink Shoe

**Summary**: Years passed since Chihiro saved her parents, her journey to the spirit world but a faded memory. Belief turned into hope, then denial, and finally memories. The promise Haku made was forgotten. But Chihiro wasn't the one who forgot. A cruel twist of fate would bring them together again, but when Haku doesn't remember her, its up to Chihiro to solve the mystery.

**Author's Note**: For a long time this plot has been sitting in my head, brewing ever since I saw the movie. Now just happens to be when I am brave enough to work on it and publish it. I don't know how exactly I want this to be set up, but for the first few chapters I know it will be from different perspectives starting with Haku. I hope you enjoy!

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Spirited Away or any of the characters!

* * *

It was cold out. It was desolate and unforgiving, a bitter chill in the wind as it flew by. And yet… it was as balmy as the spirit world ever was. Despite the warm temperatures, the delectable warm breeze floating by innocently, it was cold. It was always cold. No warmth ever seemed to find its way to him. The sweet caress of spring was hardly noticeable; the gentle touches of it sweeping past him, leaving empty promises of happiness in hollow kisses on his cheek. There was no remedying it… it had been that way for as long as he could remember. And yet, each time he felt the flutter of his hair being tousled, the playfulness of spring taunt and tease him, he couldn't help but feel as if there was something more. Something he was missing. He couldn't help but feel… cold.

_The breeze floated by, a warm summer day calling the children out to play. It was innocent fun, a time of unadulterated and unbridled joy. The sound of laughter was in the air, echoing brilliantly through the pristine waters. Words were almost distinguishable, and yet became muffled as they met the cooling sanctuary of summer. There were splashes, the disruption of the calm surface quickly becoming riddled with constant ripples. And yet, through the fun and on goings of the pure hearted, there was hesitation._

He wasn't born that way. He couldn't have been. Being cold and unfeeling was an attribute that came with time. That came with scorn and betrayal. One wasn't simply born heartless, an empty shell of a being left to figure out the challenges of the world through fear and intimidation. No! It couldn't be that way. And yet, there was no indication or explanation. There was nothing to explain the extreme nature of his… condition. No memories, no reasons, no inklings, no nothing. Nothing he could get a firm grasp on and desperately squeeze until the meaning behind it all bled out in a gruesome fashion. He was just… nothing.

_Something was different that day. The weather was cooler than usual, the warm breeze but a faded memory lingering in the chill air of fall. There was no playing and splashing. There was no laughter hot in air. Only the faint sounds of nature, the chirping crickets and twittering of birds, mixed with the murmurs of adults. There was the faintest, yet distinguishable sound of a plop on the surface, a little red and white ornament bobbing whimsically with the smooth running of the water. It was so serene out, tranquility washing over the once hectic nature and creating a soothing calm. But something was… different._

It was frustrating. Each day was a battle for him. What was he? Who was he? And with each passing night, it seemed like answers slowly slipped further and further away. He couldn't remember a single thing before the Bathhouse. He couldn't remember any emotions or people or memories before he meandered over the bridge and into the waiting arms of the witch Yubaba. He was lost. He remembered that clearly. The hopeless feeling of never finding his way and remaining a lonely, unloved, wandering soul. But she found him. She gave him a home. She gave him protection and a roof over his head. She made him who he was… she saved him. And he owed her. He knew that. But was he who he was, a cruel and unfeeling individual, because of the circumstances behind his missing life? Or purpose… molded to be the perfect apprentice instead of who he was supposed to be?

_There was a little girl. Her voice was smooth as silk, cracking with fear at the notion of one thing or another. The little red and white bobber continued to dance, playfully enticing the wildlife swimming beneath the surface._

What was he? He was a spirit… a valuable one who had been taken under the kind wing of a witch and given the chance to be her apprentice. Who was he? He was Haku, manager of the Bathhouse who was given the responsibility to make it run smoothly and successfully. He wasn't anything more or anything less. And dwelling on what should have been rather than what was, was a terrible and utter waste of time. It didn't matter who he was in a past life! It didn't matter what he had done and what he was supposed to do. What mattered was the chance he was given. The chance to make something of himself and repay the wonderful person who had saved his once damned soul.

_Something had happened. The pristine surface, lightly being rippled by the dancing bobber was disturbed. With the quiet plunk, water jetting into the air, something slowly began to sink and get taken away in the current._

He had woken up early, setting out to accomplish his morning chores before most any of the others even thought about rousing themselves for a long night of work. The sun was still high, casting a warm glow over the tiny village. But even as he tried to concentrate on doing the contract filing and income statements, something tugged at the back of his mind, distracting him. Hazy memories begged to be paid attention to, whispering in his ear and constantly having him look over his shoulder. He could practically feel the breath on his ear, the weight of their importance on his shoulders, and yet… when he tried to give them what he wanted, they disappeared. And before too long, the sun that was once glittering brilliantly, was slowly dipping behind the horizon, leaving the sky a splatter of colors. It was time.

_The air became tense, and it seemed as if time and life stood still. The air thickened a product of the inevitable going ons around them. Tiny fingers grabbed at the water, desperately trying to grip the object that had fallen. Hand stretched out as far as possible, fingers wiggling in the water as if it would bring the item back, but all in vain… she soon fell in._

For as long as he had been appointed apprentice and manager of the Bathhouse, what would have been five years had their dimension recorded time, Haku had taken to formally greeting each and every guest that arrived. It was the polite thing to do… the way to build relations and make sure there were repeat customers. It had increased revenue by nearly 30% in the last year… and all because an important face had come to meet them and make sure their needs were accommodated. Yubaba loved it, the success and money he was making, but he hated it. Making appearances and being fake, albeit efficacious was trying on his nerves. He was short with people… if he even spoke at all, and had taken to a self-inflicted solitary confinement. He wasn't the same person he used to be, so the workers claimed, a brash statement given by the bravest of workers like the boiler man or a cleaning wench whose name escaped him, but that was what power did. It ate you up alive until you were nothing but a cold unfeeling shell. All that mattered was the pride he instilled in his boss. He was a risk, but a good one.

_Frightening splashing and cries of fear washed over the tranquility. Water flew in every direction, creating a disturbing current. The little girl, so hesitant as to barely approach the edge bobbed in the water, her head barely breaking the surface for a second before she would sink back down and begin her self-preserving technique that would end in failure._

Slowly Haku tugged at his hair, which had grown in length over the passing years. Pulling the mid shoulder length hair into a well-executed top knot, making sure to leave a curtain of hair draping over his shoulders for a more dignified look, he began his march out to the lake. Feet slipping into the traditional geta, the leg of his navy blue hakama falling and covering most of his foot, he began the ritual of smoothing out his kimono sleeves. He needed to look presentable, trustworthy, and above all confident. Where he once wore a dignified version of a cleaner's outfit, he had donned a more professional look as he was given new and better opportunities. Once a child, his body had grown on its own accord, leaving him in the tall and slender form of what he figured a man would and should look like. The yuna around the bathhouse called him handsome, some courageous enough to try and spend a night with him, but he put no stock in looks. Looks didn't matter in the Spirit World. All that mattered was power, opportunity, and success. And consequently, he had it all. He had the looks, the attention, the power, the success… and yet… his life was steadily going downhill for him, the whisper of a mystery begging to be solved.

_Something was wrong. Nothing was happening. The little girl was in the water, splashing relentlessly, and no one was doing anything about it. Her screams went unheard it seemed, the adults standing idly by as she floated and sunk. No… No… NO!_

The clicking of the ground beneath his slow but steady footsteps echoed in the empty air. He could hear the boiler roar to life behind him, as he began his journey out to the lake where the boat would dock. The smell of the food around him was mind-numbingly intoxicating, leaving him wholly and completely distracted for a single moment, before he snapped himself back into reality. It was almost night, the Bathhouse would open soon. Swatting the short tendrils of his bangs from his eyes, his fingers running through the mane of hair he left down, his footsteps stopped abruptly. Breath catching momentarily in his throat, he remained motionless.

_She was innocent! She just dropped something! Why did she have to pay for a simple mistake? Did the adults not care? Was her life not worth anything to them! This was a mistake. But they had to know. They had to know she fell in. Her pleas for help were deafeningly loud, her thrashing like a beating drum. Was there nothing they could do?_

A human. This was impossible! He quickly hid his disdain and astonishment behind a well-trained mask. Humans didn't know about the spirit world, yet the stench radiating from it told him otherwise. Somehow she managed her way in, and somehow she managed to find the place without falling prey to the tantalizing trap that was the food of the spirits. Something was wrong. Something was suspicious about this… this… girl. But he couldn't place his finger on it. For a moment, something about her seemed familiar. Something about the way she held herself… her face… it was familiar. And then he was filled with a body wrenching pain shooting up his neck, leaving him helplessly rubbing it until the throbbing pain ebbed away and left him stern and composed.

_Her movements ceased, and she fell beneath the surface. Her eyes were still open, bubbles still escaping her mouth, but she had given up her attempts to reach the edge and cling to land. She had given up on her mission. And this all was because of what…_

His movements were quick and precise, his body practically floating over the bridge to where she stood. His hand took hold of her forearm, squeezing roughly. "What are you doing here!" It was the same tone he used when a worker was in trouble, but the glint in his eye spoke of the anger welling inside of him. For a moment he remained silent, his eyes scanning over her features and begging to quench the desire of figuring out where he knew her from, for fear that all-encompassing pain would return tenfold. "Your kind isn't welcomed here…. Human," he snarled, shoving her forward and away from Bathhouse. "Leave before it's too late." She was trouble. He could feel it in every fiber of his being. He couldn't allow her to remain in this world.

_All for a tiny… pink… shoe._


	2. Chapter 2: Shallow Waters

**Summary:** Years passed since Chihiro saved her parents, her journey to the spirit world but a faded memory. Belief turned into hope, then denial, and finally memories. The promise Haku made was forgotten. But Chihiro wasn't the one who forgot. A cruel twist of fate would bring them together again, but when Haku doesn't remember her, its up to Chihiro to solve the mystery.

**Author's Note: **Thank you to everyone who has read this, and to those few who have reviewed it. I am very thankful to see that so many have taken interest in this. And its very uplifting to see. For this chapter I decided to do it in Chihiro's point of view, and yes, it was intended to mirror Haku's story in both format and even in some ways the writing. I hope you enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Spirited Away or any of the characters!

* * *

It was cold out. It was desolate and unforgiving, a bitter chill in the wind as it flew by. And yet… it was as balmy as it ever was in the springtime. Despite the warm temperatures, the delectable warm breeze floating by innocently, it was cold. This season was supposed to be about life and rebirthing, new chances and fresh starts. New life bloomed from a dead ground, dead grass turning green again with renewed vigor and flowers blossoming into unfathomable beauty. Yet, in the warmth of the season of life, there was nothing but bitterness and hate wrapped up in her tiny, frail body. It hadn't started off this way, she had welcomed the change of the season and all that it had to offer. Warm winds, new life, and days outside basking in the sun at the park were calling her name in sweet whispered winds against her cheek. But time had a way of changing things. Time was cruel. And as the wind played with her ponytail, solemn eyes cast down to the freshly turned earth, she couldn't help but feel… cold.

_Night had fallen on the land, the moon raising high in the air and easing the sun into a sweet slumber. Deep reds and oranges turned into dark hues of purple and blue, until finally the sky was a navy sea stretching as far as your imagination reached. Little twinkling lights littered the sea like heartbeats, raining light into the darkened world, a comforting nod of security in the vast uncertainty. It was dark, but no place could be safer, the world wrapped in the sweet gleam of moonlight. Serene… tranquil… peaceful._

She wasn't born this way, cold and frightened. She couldn't have been! Life hadn't always been so cruel, it couldn't. But it seemed that the years that had been so kind to her were, filled with happy memories and moments of unbridled joy, were overshadowed by the events of the past few days. Years or normalcy, a comfortable routine and familiar faces, were lost in a blur of current events, desperately trying to swim back to the forefront of her mind and ease the sadness. Yet there was no life glittering in her eyes, no laughter in her smile, no happiness in her that once was so prominent. Just an empty shell, a shadow of who she once was.

_The sweet symphony of crickets bubbled to life when the sun was finally resting. Their quiet little chirps like a lullaby for nature, dulcet and comforting. Even the birds, so anxious to sing sweet melodies in the glory of the sun, had nestled down to sleep, and took comfort in the lonely song of the crickets. Nights like this were so common that they were taken for granted, inhabitants of the world ignoring the symphony playing so sweetly in the background. But it didn't fall upon deaf ears—not tonight._

It was heart breaking. Each day was a new battle for her to face, more hardships and despair. Slowly the pressure was weighing her down and she didn't know if she could remain on her own two feet for much longer. Her knees threatened to buckle, her resolve crumbling, tears slowly passing by her defenses and burning lines down her rosy cheeks. It wasn't supposed to be this way. It wasn't fair. But when was life ever fair? Her grip on life had loosened, her position in the world shaken. She was lost, hopeless and lonely… a wandering soul.

_There was something she had come here to do, a mission. She had been determined; there was no stopping her or changing her mind. Yet, as the symphony of wildlife caressed her ears, he could only feel the growing hollow feeling in her stomach begin to take over. He could be dying… and she was just sitting there doing nothing. He could be dying…_

The sound of laughter and faded smiles took over, an echo of who she once was just days ago. So carefree and innocent, naïve to what was about to change her life. She remembered mocking a teacher with a close friend of hers as they walked home from school, simple little gestures sending both of them into uncontrollable fits of laughter. They had talked about how they feared their latest test had gone, giggled at how nonchalant the other was about the inevitable failing grade they would receive, because really, neither of them were that great of scholars. With a wave she would bid her friend goodbye, finishing the last of the trip to the tiny blue house in a slow paced jog. The memory was so fresh in her mind she could almost hear her friend's laughter tickling her mind, the hint of a smile fighting its way to her lips. But the memory faded… sirens and flashing lights blinding her… leaving her hollow…

_Wind, stronger than any she had ever felt, overcame the small cottage. It seemed they had been expecting company, but who she could only guess… only hope. Her heart raced with anticipation as her unpracticed fingers worked with the door, pulling open the shuttering barrier and opening the small cottage to the night. Her breath caught in her throat and she swore she could fly. He was alive._

Who was she? She almost didn't care. Her name was Chihiro Ogino. She was 17 years old. She was a loving daughter and a loyal friend. She wasn't the most graceful person, or the smartest, but her heart was true and strong. Who was she? She was Chihiro Ogino… orphaned and alone. Her parents were gone, along with her heart, and she had nowhere else to go. Who was she? She was Chihiro Ogino… lost and confused. Dark eyes stared at the fresh mounds of earth, weak fingers clutching a bouquet of roses. A bitter thought crossed her mind, but she shrugged it off as she knelt down, gently placing the flowers over their respective graves. It had been her first bouquet… and it was a goodbye present. That was depressing. But she never imagined this. Today, these flowers, this bouquet, wasn't for her.

_The wind against her face was foreign, the feeling of flight both exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. Never could she have imagined this in her life, her mind unable to fathom that it was happening—convinced she was dreaming. She once was afraid of everything, a nervous child who could barely stand on her own two feet. Yet here she was, soaring in the sky, feeling so comfortable… it was eerily familiar._

Standing up, her hands smoothing out the fabric of her black skirt, a sparkling on her wrist caught her attention. Slowly the frown that formed on her lips days ago turned into a small and fond smile, her opposite hand gently wringing her wrist and pulling the worn band from its resting place. It was all she had left of that life, a life she would be convinced was a dream had it not been for the glittering purple band. The proof she had that those far off memories, buried deep away and out of sight, were true and real. It had once been used to keep her hair up and out of her face, a constant reminder of her the spirit world, of who she was. But days turned to weeks, and weeks to months, months to years… and slowly it became a worn out bracelet on its last legs of life. She had forgotten about it—almost. But it, her friends, where always there for her when she needed them most… and she needed them now.

_"Haku listen. I just remembered something from a long time ago, I think it may help you. Once, when I was little, I dropped my shoe into a river. When I tried to get it back I fell in. I thought I'd drown but the water carried me to shore. It finally came back to me. The river's name was the Kohaku River. I think that was you, and your real name is Kohaku River!"_

Slowly she examined the glittering band, moving it purposely to catch the light. With an airy laugh, reminiscent of a soft sigh, she began to gather her long hair in her hands. Tears were falling freely from her eyes, but she no longer cared about her broken resolve and swallowing back the lump in her throat that made it harder and harder to breathe. Tying the loose hair band around her hair, the fabric loose and threatening to give way, and she felt immediately comforted. This was who she was… who she had been. She had been strong and independent. She was respectable and reliable, a loyal and selfless friend. She was a hard worker, a determined spirit. Not some broken, hollow, wandering soul. She could only imagine how her friends would look at her now—mourning over the loss of her parents. She had lost them once before, though not quite in such a final way such as death. They wouldn't be happy with her—how she gave up so easily. She needed to be stronger… to persevere through it. She needed to be that little girl…

_Realization sunk in and time seemed to stop. Fear stilled her beating heart in her chest as she felt Haku stiffen, and his scales began to vanish. In seconds they were free falling… nothing to stop them from plummeting to the ground, to ease their descent. And yet, as the air was sucked from her lungs, the fear of death did not claim her any longer. Tears had formed in her eyes, unable to tear them away from Haku. She had done it… something worthwhile, something important. She saved him._

It hadn't been a split second decision to go back. It had taken painstakingly long hours for her mind to wrap around the consequences of what she was doing. But she needed this now, it was all she could focus on, all she could think about. The Spirit World was the only place she felt like herself, where she could be herself. Where she wouldn't have to face nameless and faceless people who pretended to pity her for her loss. Who tried to be sympathetic and relate with her on how she must feel. She didn't need reassurance that it would be okay—because it never would be. The wound might heal over, but the scar would forever exist, permanently etched on her skin like a tattoo. Right now she didn't need what was offered to her, fake hugs and pity pats on the shoulder. She needed her friends, but most of all… she needed to be herself. To find herself again. She was going back, and there was no changing her mind. She just had to say goodbye… one… final… time.

_"You did it Chihiro! I remember! I was the Spirit of the Kohaku River!"_

It was just how she remembered it, the little stone houses, the long winding road to the eerily smiling stone, the dark and foreboding tunnel. But she wasn't nervous or afraid as she had been the first time. Her heart was heavy in her chest, thumping anxiously against her ribs as she stood at the mouth of the tunnel. Gently her hand caressed the side, her fingertips gently running over a large crack in the wall. Silently, her heart ached, seeing in front of her eyes what no doubt she looked like on the inside. Broken… dilapidated… It had gotten older, seemed more run down than she remembered, but that was only to be expected. The wind, so calm and so gentle, blew by her calling out to her eagerly, trying to lead her into its murky depths. Just like before. This time though. She didn't have her mother to cling to, and a stray tear fell from her eyes. But she couldn't dwell on this forever. She had to be strong… had to be brave. And just like the moment when she left and promised Haku, there was no looking back. Forward was the only direction to go now.

_"That must be the reason I can't find my way home, Chihiro, I remember you falling into the river, and I remember your little pink shoe!"_

This time would be different. She knew the inner workings of this world now, and knew no to fall into the traps, and to find food soon before she faded away. It was sunset when she finally arrived at the bridge, and she knew that most workers were still asleep, dreading when they would be woken up for work. Yet a lone figure stood before her, awake and very much aware. She had promised herself she wouldn't cry here. That the life she left behind would not haunt her in this new home. Yet her untrained mask fell and her resolve crumbled as tears bubbled to the surface at the site of him. His face, his body, she could barely recognize him. But she knew, deep in her broken heart, who he was. Words escaped her, left her breathless as she watched him cross the bridge. He remembered her… he had forgotten his promise, but he remembered her! For the first time in what felt like innumerable days, she felt like smiling… like the world wasn't about to crumble beneath her feet and swallow her up and out of existence. But that happiness, the breathless laugh that escaped her lips when he was a fraction of an inch from her, was short lived. Pain shot threw her arm at his grip. Fear claimed her broken heart and she looked into his cold, bitter eyes so full of hate and contempt for her. "Your kind isn't welcomed here… Human!" What little of her heart that hadn't broken shattered, and all Chihiro could do was stare in disbelief, sinking to her knees in overwhelming defeat. He didn't remember… she really was just a wandering, lost little soul.

_"So you're the one who carried me back to shallow water… you saved me. I knew you were good!"_


End file.
